


Forever-Love

by paradis



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-06
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 08:45:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradis/pseuds/paradis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny has to fall in love before he turns thirty-five, or he’s alone for the rest of his life. And not just fall in love, but truly, madly and deeply in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever-Love

**Author's Note:**

> Neurotic Author's note 1) I have no idea where this came from. One second I'm all like, wouldn't it be great if we were just FORCED to find someone in life? and then the next second I'm like, *lightbulb!*  
> Neurotic Author's note 2) I categorized this as Crack because I'm pretty sure that's what it is but hey, who knows?  
> Neurotic Author's note 3)(Last one!) I have over-analyzed this story a ridiculous amount of times, well into the night, a ridiculous amount of hours. If somehow something doesn't add up, feel free to point it out because I was still _nail-bitingly_ nervous about posting this.

So, here’s the thing: Danny Williams is not a superstitious man, by any means. He’s actually pretty realistic, if he says so himself. But he’s heard the stories, okay, and he’d be a little dense if he didn’t admit to himself that he wasn’t slightly worried now and again that maybe they were true. Most days he just scoffs at the stories and brushes them away, but some days, when he’s really alone and really tired and exhausted and unsure, he feels the weight of it, the heaviness of it settling into his bones.

He gets nearer and nearer to it every day and he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t more than a little unsure about what to do with himself.

The story goes like this: apparently a couple generations back, before him or his mother or even his grandmother were a twinkle in the eyes of his great-grandparents thoughts, before his great-grandparents were even together, his great-great-grandfather apparently – _apparently_ pissed off some witch who was a feminist before actual feminist times and she apparently – _apparently_ cast some sort of curse on him. Danny’s family has always said that the curse affects the males only and Danny has never seen anything to prove otherwise.

If, you know, Danny was a believing kind of guy (which he’s not, he’s absolutely not), he would notice that all of his sisters have made it past the curse but his cousins absolutely haven’t. His brother is younger than him and isn’t around so it’s not like he’d really know anyways, is it?

Danny has to fall in love before he turns thirty-five, or he’s alone for the rest of his life. And not just fall in love, but truly, madly and deeply in love. The forever kind of love that traps you and makes you think that without that person, you don’t know how you’d survive.

Danny is thirty-four and a half and getting nearer to thirty-five every single day with the sort of dread one holds for their dying day. He’s not sure what he’s expecting to feel here: the clink of locks clicking over his heart? Something shriveling up inside? With the job he has it’s not as if he can run around the island looking for some kind of _true love_ in his spare time.

His ma clucks her tongue against her teeth when he explains this to her over the phone, again and again, for the thousandth time since he’s turned thirty-four. “I’m just saying Daniel,” she says, tsking. “I raised you right; you know how to treat a date. Wine and dine them, you know? Anymore, people would be _lucky_ to find someone to fall in love with forever. They’d be thanking their lucky _stars_ they found you – if you ask me,” she says, and Danny can practically hear her shrugging her shoulders and tapping her feet against the linoleum kitchen floors, her slippered feet making the soft _pat pat_ noise against the worn flooring. Danny misses it something terrible in that instant, but tamps it down.

“That’s funny, Ma,” he swallows a drink of beer and throws the cap at his lonely apartment wall (and is it just him, is he getting paranoid – but has he been growing more and more _lonely_ lately?), “But I don’t remember asking you.”

She clucks her tongue against her teeth again, the ever-present disapproving noise of Danny’s childhood, says, “Daniel,” and hangs up the phone. Danny sighs.

\--  
Danny thought he’d found it with Rachel, but everybody had just shook their heads at him and done his mother’s tongue-clucking at him. He’d gotten angry and then cocky and refused to give up on him and Rachel then; plowed full-speed ahead in their love, proposing perhaps when he shouldn’t have, getting married perhaps before they should have. Then Grace had come along and he realized what true love really was and it was with a sinking realization that Danny noticed his entire family was probably right: he and Rachel weren’t it. Sure, Danny loved her, but he didn’t _love_ her, not enough; there wasn’t that connection, the feeling that he’d die without her in his life.

And by the point that he’d realized that they’d already begun hating each other anyways, so it only made Danny hate her even more – that she wasn’t the right person for him, that he hadn’t picked right the first time. In all the stories Danny had heard, he’d never heard one where his relatives had to go through several different loves to find the right one. Danny wasn’t – _isn’t_ – a whore of any kind and he refuses to think of running through women trying to find the right person.

He’d much rather be alone, thank you.

\--  
When Matty comes to visit, before it all falls apart, they discuss the curse. “You’re getting up there, bro,” Matty says while they’re sitting on his hotel balcony drinking a few beers.

“Thanks,” Danny grimaces.

“It’s not anything offensive,” Matty holds his hands up in a defenseless pose, eyes wide and innocent for all of three seconds – the way he used to when they were kids and he trained the dog to sniff up girls’ skirts and got caught but said the dog did it all on his own – before he goes back to drinking his beer, “But you’ve got to figure it out.”

“Figure it out,” Danny snorts, “Figure it _out?_ Matty, sometimes you just –“

“It doesn’t need figuring out?” Matty arches an eyebrow. Danny spins his bottle cap on the table and shoots a glare towards his brother. “Look, I get it, you don’t believe in it. Whatever, maybe you’re right, Danny. But what if you aren’t? What then? What if this curse is real and you’re forever alone like Uncle Joey?”

Danny grunts, drains his beer and looks out towards the city of Honolulu, “If we’re gonna talk about Uncle Joey, I need something much, much stronger.” Matty digs around beside his chair before coming up with two glasses, scotch and a sheepish grin.

“I came prepared,” he shrugs. Danny sighs and pours the scotch.

“I don’t want to turn into Uncle Joey,” he says, mostly to himself.

“Uncle Joey is a miserable old fucker,” Matty agrees. Uncle Joey was Danny’s great-uncle who supposedly didn’t believe in the curse, either. He turned thirty-five, didn’t find his Forever-Love and was alone forever. He drank and smoked a lot, threw things at the TV and yelled at Danny and his brother and sisters whenever his Ma dragged them along to check on Joey once a month. Danny pretty much hated his guts and lived in fear of him.

Joey is also half the reason Danny never wanted his mother’s Italian accent, just her ability to cook so well. Joey’s slurred Italian rants were half fearful and half disgusting for the most part, Danny remembers as he drains his scotch and he never, _ever_ wants Grace to have to drag her kids to his house to check on him only for him to be screaming things at her and her kids and the television all at once.

“The thing is,” he says. He pauses, drinks some more and doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Matty doesn’t, either. “The thing is,” he tries again, “The thing is, I don’t want to be let down. And – I don’t – I’ve dated women, since Rachel. Not a lot, but I have dated. None of them have even clicked.”

Matty is quiet for a long moment before he lifts his glass up and says, “Well. Who says it has to be a woman that’s your forever love?”

Danny lets that sink in while he gets rip-roaring drunk right there on his brother’s hotel balcony. He hates Matty that much more for running away before he _helped_ Danny figure it out, he realizes.

\--  
Thing of it is, Danny doesn’t have much time to even think about falling in love. It’s part of the problem, he suspects as he sits at the bar and messes with the label on his beer bottle. There’s a girl eyeing him and he’s not even slightly interested because he’s coming off a case that took three weeks to solve and he’s exhausted. The only reason he’s here is because Kono insisted on meeting him for a drink before they went and crashed for two days.

She arrives just as the flirty woman is about to move in on him and Danny exhales in relief. “Thank God,” he breathes out, and Kono arches an eyebrow.

“Alright there, _brah_?” she questions as she slides onto the stool, and Danny just shakes his head.

“Sure,” he says. “Great, wonderful. I’ve been shot at three times in the last two days alone, I’m exhausted, and now you want to talk to me about _something_ in private, which can only mean trouble for a nice guy like myself,” he narrows his eyes. Kono’s own eyes twinkle in amusement at his short rant.

“To be fair,” she says, “I was only responsible for getting you shot at once. You should take the rest up with the Bossman.”

“Fuck,” Danny exhales, and rests his head on the bar. Kono pats his back in sympathy for all of three seconds before she gets down to business.

“Something’s been bothering you,” she states. Danny narrows his eyes and sits up straighter. He shakes his head at her.

“I’m sorry, something’s been – _what?_ ” he asks her in disbelief. “There are a million things bothering me, rookie. Starting with the fact that I’ve been deprived of sleep for near three weeks now, number one,” he says firmly. But she shakes her head and clasps her hands together, a signal that she’s not giving up on this one.

“So give me number two,” she replies, and Danny clenches his fists together anxiously.

“I don’t – I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair.

“Danny,” she admonishes, and he sighs.

He stays quiet for two minutes, hoping that maybe if he plays dumb she’ll throw in the towel and go home, get that sleep they’ve all been ranting about for ages now, but Kono’s a strong woman, knows what she’s doing – she waits it out and eventually Danny’s the one that gets impatient. He’s careful about what he says, though. “What if…” he starts, carefully, “What if I’m, I don’t know. Lonely, lately, or something?”

Kono’s eyes light up at some thought she’s had (probably taking over the world – Jesus, not again, Danny thinks), and she reaches out and clasps Danny’s hands in hers, “Danny, are you saying you’re ready to date?” She asks him, curling a leg under her butt on the stool like she’s getting comfortable and getting ready to – Danny shudders – plan. Danny shrugs.

“Maybe?” it comes out like a question and Danny knows he should make it sound more confident, but if he’s being honest with himself (and he’s _always_ honest with himself, and everyone else), he’s completely at a loss with what to do, so he’s not even close to feeling confident at the moment. Kono lets out the closest thing to a girlish squeal that he’s ever heard her make, though he’s sure if he mentioned it to her, she’d punch him in the jaw just to prove him wrong, and claps her hands together once in excitement.

“I can set you up,” she says. “I know plenty of girls, okay, Danny, and don’t worry; they’ll totally be your type, okay? We’ll have you with a girlfriend in no time, _brah._ ” Danny winces.

“Um,” he says.

That’s how Danny finds himself becoming a total man whore.

\--  
“What?” His Ma says, clucking her tongue across the phone line. “I don’t even think I heard you right – _what_ did you just say?”

Danny scrubs a hand across his face, runs fingers through his hair, messing it up even more than it was from waking up. Bed head is not his friend.

“I said,” he clears his throat, “I started dating. Um, guys.” He hears his Ma slam the coffee pot into the coffee maker – it’s old, sort of broken, takes three tries to get it to fit just right – and then pull down what he knows is her mug first and then his dad’s. He knows she’s moved on to putting the creamer in to sit and wait while the coffee is brewing.

“Guys?” She asks loudly over the phone, like she’s suddenly gone deaf. This is how his Ma plays dumb. She repeatedly asks what Danny’s just said, louder than he’s already said it, and then is silent for a few moments, gathering her thoughts before either launching into a rant or hanging up or kicking someone out, depending on where they are in the world. Danny has a sinking feeling that judging by the shrilling tone in his mother’s questioning tone he’s about to get his ass _reamed_ by her.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “You know, so that I um, can – test the waters? See if maybe there’s a one true love um – on the other side on the field.”

She’s quiet for a long moment before she says, “The _other side of the field?_ You mean _your_ side of the field, Daniel? What does that even – Jesus, Danny, I have no idea what goes on in that brain of yours, sometimes. What if this is all just a stupid ploy to put off finding your true love, huh? Then what? You’ve got what – six months? If you waste it gallivanting around with _men,_ Daniel Joseph Williams, I will reach through the phone and throttle you myself,” she shrills into the phone.

And then she hangs up on him.

Danny thinks it went really well, honestly.

\--  
The thing is, Kono knows _a lot_ of men, Danny realizes on his fourth – different – date. They’re all pretty nice, he supposes, but he doesn’t think they’re what he’s looking for. Depending on who’s who, he wines and dines them or they wine and dine him and then one or the other drops either person off at the doorstep. Danny has been kissed or kissed three out of his four dates and while it’s not been an unpleasant experience, it’s not exactly been earth-shattering, floor-splitting, Forever-Love-like, either.

He’s at HQ changing his tie when his fifth date shows up to pick him up. Steve looks up from where he’s working on a case file with his Confused Face and Kono looks up with glee. Danny looks at both of them, unsure before he turns and looks at his date and realizes why Kono looks so gleeful and Steve looks so confused. Because, wow. He’s pretty handsome, alright. “Oh,” Danny swallows. “Everybody, this is Evan. My date.”

Evan has a great personality even, and introduces himself to everyone easily, except for Kono, because they already sort of know one another. Steve just glances at him before looking at Danny. “Date?” he asks, voice sounding sort of strangled. Danny nods.

“Yes, Steve,” Danny nods slowly. “Some people have them. You know, buddy, you might want to get out more often, yourself. You’re looking a little – “ Danny winds his finger around his ear, the universal signal for crazy while Kono laughs and Evan wraps a hand around his bicep and asks if he’s ready to go yet. Steve’s eyes widen for a millisecond before they narrow.

“Very funny, Danno,” he says evenly. Danny shoots him a grin and then lets himself be ushered out the door by his date.

And it goes well, but he can’t help but feel like there’s something missing the entire time. Like there’s a gravitational pull towards someone, somewhere else nearby, but he can’t figure out whom, only that he knows them, somewhere in the back of his mind.

\--  
“So are you seeing Evan again?” Steve asks conversationally, biting down on an apple. Juice sprays everywhere and there’s a satisfying _crunch_ that makes Danny long for fall leaves and long drives to apple farms with his family back when he was a kid.

“Who?” Danny asks, watching Steve’s fingers spin the apple around while he chews.

“Evan? Your date? From the other… did it not go well?” Steve turns his head towards Danny, eyebrow arched.

“Oh,” Danny remembers then, nodding. “No, it went okay, I guess. I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I just…” he trails off as Steve lifts the apple to his mouth and bites down again. Something in Danny bubbles up and rises up and he reaches out and grabs the apple, simultaneously winding his window down. He flings it out of the car, “Can you just – Jesus. Christ. _Stop._ ” He mumbles, trying to take deep breaths and compose himself.

Steve’s eyes have widened almost comically and he stares at Danny in shock, hand still in the air next to his mouth, fingers still curled around an imaginary apple. “Um,” he says, “Wow.”

And Danny hates Matty more than ever for mentioning that it might be a guy he falls in love with; hates him for pointing out his attraction to guys in the first place, because there’s a lot about Steve that he’s noticing these days.

\--  
“Something you were missing, huh?” His mom clucks her tongue.

“Jesus,” Danny sighs.

“Daniel,” she admonishes, and he clenches his teeth down before sighing again.

“Ma,” he says. “What am I supposed to do, huh? What if I don’t find this person on time, but they’ve been right here the entire time? What then? That’s like God’s worst fucking joke. Like he’s having a big huge laugh at me.”

“Well,” she says, “Father Borelli does say that God uses us as his messengers,” she sighs.

Danny is quiet for a minute before he says, “What does that even _mean?_ ”

“Mostly I was trying to say that I think God just uses us like play-toys,” his Ma says, and he hears her take a drink of her nightly glass of wine. “If your Forever-Love is right next to you and you don’t see him – or her – before your time, well then, you’re probably right. God is probably having one great huge laugh at you.”

“Wow,” Danny says in disbelief at her complete _un-support._ “Just. Wow.”

\--  
Danny picks Gracie up and they hang out at his apartment for a while because it’s pouring down rain and there’s nothing much better to do. “Danno,” she says and climbs up next to him on the sofa bed. “You should tell me a story.”

“A story?” Danny asks. “What kind of story, Monkey?” He combs his fingers through her hair and wonders when it got so long. He remembers when she was younger and hated getting it brushed – threw a fit every time she got out of the bath. Now it’s one of her favorite things to let her mother or Danny do, run the brush through her long strands and then French braid it while it’s still wet so she has little curls in the morning.

“Any kind of story,” she says, snuggling into his chest, and he curls up tighter against her, pulling the blankets over them. He remembers they used to do this all the time, when they were all one family. He would tell her stories before bedtime, curled in her bed with her, and she’d fall asleep on his chest, tiny snores escaping her mouth, fingers tangled in his shirt. “The one about the man and the witch,” she decides suddenly, and Danny thinks she’s got some kind of sixth sense or something, the way she decides on _that_ story, of all the stories he’s told her throughout the years.

“Hmm,” he says, leans back and closes his eyes. “Once upon a time, there was a very cocky young man,” Danny begins, and complete with voices and hand gestures he begins his family’s generations-long tale of the Forever-Love Curse.

Danny stops and takes a breath, still running his fingers through Grace’s hair. He looks down and sees that she’s half asleep. “Don’t stop,” she murmurs, twisting her fingers into his shirt in emphasis. “Wanna hear the ending, Danno.” Danny chuckles.

“The man didn’t believe her for several years – not until he reached his thirty-fourth birthday. It was then that he started feeling immense loneliness in his heart every time he was alone in his quarters. He set out to find his true love – Forever-Love, he called it. He fell in love with a beautiful Italian woman and her accent and the way she had a desire to take care of everything immediately. ‘Come away with me,’ he begged her, and she stared at him long and hard before replying. ‘I can see through your flaws,’ she said. ‘You have something beautiful. Something that I could really love.’ They married and true to the woman who had cursed him – the curse broke, proving that she was his forever love. Their love lasted this lifetime and beyond. They were happy. He reminded his family to always follow the rules of the curse,” Danny finishes.

“Did they, Danno?” Gracie asks, just like she asks every time.

“I don’t know, Monkey,” Danny says, biting his lip. “I bet some of his descendants probably chose not to believe the story and got left alone for forever, maybe,” he says, gripping her shoulder a little tighter than he usually does, thinking of Uncle Joey.

“I don’t think it’s fair the curse goes on forever,” Grace says sadly.

“Sometimes it happens,” Danny says lightly. “Sometimes things just aren’t fair, you know, Gracie.”

“Like when families get divorces,” she says, yawning. Danny looks down at her.

“Grace –“ he says, but before he can think of anything else to say, she’s sound asleep. Danny scrubs a tired hand at his face and thinks, no, it isn’t fair, before falling asleep without even carrying her to her own bed.  
\--  
There’s a pounding on his door that he wakes up to the next morning. Grace stirs sleepily next to him before kicking out a foot and turning over and passing back out. Danny grimaces, thinking about back when he slept that well. He doesn’t think he’s done so for a long time. He crawls off the bed and goes to the door. “Hey,” Steve grins on the other side. “You just wake up?”

“Yes, you fucker,” Danny hisses, glancing back to see if Grace is still asleep. “Grace and I were up kind of late.” Steve arches an eyebrow.

“It’s not your day with Grace,” he says surely, and Danny narrows his eyes at him.

“You know my schedule, Steve?”

Steve shifts. “Well – “ he says. “For – um. Work purposes, I guess,” he says.

“Right,” Danny nods. “Work purposes, my ass. Did you _memorize it_ Steven?”

“Kind of,” Steve shrugs. Shrugs the way Danny’s Ma always does when she’s caught drinking too much brandy on Christmas eve, a flush on her cheekbones and a twinkle in her eyes. Steve _kind of_ looks the same way right now, if Danny’s being honest with himself (which he is, he totally is).

“Rachel had an overnight business thing,” Danny tells Steve, but doesn’t know why he’s telling Steve. “She asked me if I’d like Grace and I said yes, of course I’d like Grace, what kind of father am I to _not_ want Grace? So I went and got Grace. We hung out here because it was raining cats and dogs all day yesterday and then we fell asleep late last night and slept late today and then – you woke me up,” he finishes.

Steve ducks his head. “That’s nice,” he says.

“Yes it is,” Danny says lightly. “Was there something I could do for you at this fine time in the morning, Steven? Or did you just drop by for a polite chat on my doorstep?”

“I –“ Steve shifts his weight and squints his eyes. “I was going to see if you wanted to do something today, but you’ve got Gracie,” he shrugs. Just as Danny is about to open his mouth and say, _When don’t Gracie and I do stuff with you?_ he hears a shriek, the bounce of sofa-bed springs and Grace’s footsteps pattering across the apartment floor until she reaches the door.

“Uncle Steve,” she shouts and steps out so she can wrap her arms around Steve’s legs. She’s got one of Danny’s old shirts on and it reaches her knees and her hair is almost as wild as Danny’s is in the morning.

“Gracie,” Steve says, amused, reaching down to brush hair out of her face. “How are you, munchkin?”

“I’m good,” Grace nods enthusiastically. “Really good, Uncle Steve. Did you come to hang out with us today? Can we go to the beach, Danno? Oh, can you make pancakes with chocolate chips first, please?” She turns big brown eyes up towards him as she tugs Steve’s arm through the threshold.

“Um – Grace –“ Steve tries, but Danny shakes his head, smiling fondly.

“Pancakes with chocolate chips,” Danny says, “I think I can manage that.”

“Danny – that’s not nutritional,” Steve grimaces as Grace pulls and tugs him into the apartment towards the kitchen.

“Shut up you big freak,” Danny grumbles as he follows. “She gets them once a week, for Pete’s sake, it’s not like I’m running around making them for her every day.” Steve winces as he pulls down the flour and the chocolate chips but nevertheless, Danny can see the hints of a smile forming at the corners of his face, too.

The have a pretty glorious day.

\--  
Danny slices the apples and hums to the song and tries not to think about just when he maybe started falling for Steve McGarrett. He tries not to think about hazel eyes and gentle teasing and mumbled words about loud New Jersey detectives – just loud enough that Danny can hear it so he can plow right over Steve’s complaints and complain about proper procedure and good backup and other such things in return. He tries not to think about tall, dark and handsome Navy SEALs who smile when Danny shouts about island traffic and island time and island – well, _everything._

Somewhere along the line, Danny started noticing Steve a lot more, but it’s not enough. He’s not ready to lay everything out there and risk it all just to have Steve not be his Forever-Love. There’s not enough _time_ , he reasons. (It can’t just be that he’s afraid, because Danny Williams is absolutely not afraid.)

He throws flour down on the counter before he rolls out the crust and digs around in the drawer for his rolling pin. Then he moves it back and forth over the crust, spreading it out. There’s a mixture of flour and sugar floating through the air as he moves and he flicks a hand at it as he sets his crust down into the pan and dumps his apple mix into it. Then he lays the top crust over that and starts pinching.

He’s purposefully _not_ thinking about Steve while he does it, but it’s not working very well, he admits to himself.

Also, he manfully does not shriek like a girl when Steve’s voice echoes through his apartment, “You’re making a _pie?_ ” He demands in what sounds like a nearly scandalized tone.

“What,” Danny pants, “The _fuck is wrong with you?_ ”

Steve frowns and still manages to look confused at Danny’s pie-making skills all at once, “I knocked,” he tells him, stepping into the kitchen area of the apartment. “Like, a lot of times, Danno. You never answered me and the door was open, so I came in.”

“Fuck,” Danny exhales and grips the countertop. Steve walks up behind him and peers over his shoulder.

“A pie,” he frowns. “Like, an actual, homemade pie.”

“Do not mock my pie, Steven. This is my mother’s recipe and while it won’t match up to hers, because these aren’t fresh orchard apples because this is –“ Danny waves a hand around, “Hawaii, it will be an excellent pie because my mother is an excellent cook. She taught me everything she knows.”

“I thought the extent of your cooking skills extended to macaroni and cheese, is all,” Steve says thoughtfully. “ _Kraft_ macaroni and cheese.”

Danny also manfully tries to resist the urge to throw the rolling pin at him, instead sliding the pie into the oven and setting the timer. “If you want any of said pie you’ll shut your mouth,” he says, turning around. He notices that Steve is wearing a blue shirt today and it makes his eyes pop for some reason and then he tells his brain to retract the previous notification because – no, he should not be noticing such things. Bad, bad, bad.

Steve gives him and grin and Danny grips the countertop in an attempt to resist the urge to slap himself stupid. “Pie,” Steve says almost gleefully. “I can’t wait to tell everyone you can make _pie._ ”

Danny flings the wooden spoon in his direction and _does not_ want to tackle him and drag him away forever and ever when Steve dances out of the way, laughter making him breathless. (He totally does.)

\--  
“You think your boss – _what?_ ” His Ma says loudly into the phone and he pulls it away from his ear, if only because he’s just getting over his last scream-match from her.

“Ma –“ he tries, but she cuts in.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Danny how do you get into the _situations_ that you get into? I used to think you were my favorite kid, but these days you’re moving down the list fast.” He hears the clink of glass and knows she’s reached into the back of the pantry where she hides her good brandy – the kind she pulls out when she’s exhausted with her children or her husband.

He sort of wants to hit himself because he can only remember maybe three incidents before when he was responsible for the pulling out of the good brandy. One involved the Puking Incident of ’96, another was his and Rachel’s divorce. One is what Steve would call _classified_ if he’d ever been there and put a closed-off expression on his face and leave kept at that. Danny likes to leave it at that, too.

“I can’t – I can’t help it!” He says, flinging his arms up. He drops the phone at the same time and swears. He fumbles around for three seconds before he gets it and when he picks it up his Ma is already talking.

“ – think you can’t help it, I just think you might have had better luck if you’d never switched over to the other side of the field, is all,” she’s saying, and Danny tries not to want to crawl through the phone and grab the bottle of brandy and get drunk off his ass. That’s not very responsible, he tells himself.

“Ma –“

“ – And another thing, this is your _boss,_ ” she says, plowing right over his attempt to speak, “You can’t just let this be some little crush. You need to make sure this is the real thing; your Forever-Love, Danny.”

“I _know,_ ” he says, exasperated.

“Well,” she says and there’s a long pause where he knows she’s swallowing her brandy and refilling her glass.

“As long as you know what you’re doing,” she says.

But the thing is, he totally doesn’t.

\--  
“I need your help,” Danny announces as soon as Kono slides into the booth across the table from him.

“Wow,” she says, eyes widening, “No small talk, huh _brah?_ ”

“No time for small talk,” he says, leaning forward.

And there isn’t. There’s two months until he turns thirty-five, he’s absolutely wasted enough time trying to convince himself that either a) the curse isn’t real or b) he’s not completely and stupidly in love with Steve. But a) he feels maddeningly lonelier with each passing day and b) he feels even _worse_ when he’s not around Steve. Which can only mean two things, he’s decided. He’s in love with him or he’s finally gone insane. Both of which are equally possible, but there’s only one way to find out, he tells himself.

“I need you to… help me um – seduce,” he clears his throat. Her eyes widen even more and she flips her hair to one side as she leans closer, listening intently.

“Who are we seducing?” She asks eagerly.

“Well,” Danny trails off, and that’s how that begins.

\--  
Step one is ditch the ties, she says, which Danny is convinced is fifty percent for her pleasure and fifty percent for Steve’s pleasure. He walks into HQ the next morning with no tie and the first two buttons of his shirt popped open and Chin sees him first, “Ho, _brah,_ special occasion?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

Danny’s hands automatically rise to straighten his tie (not there, he reminds himself; focus on the task at hand here.), and he pulls them away immediately before shooting Chin a small smirk. “Just felt like changing things up,” he says lightly, and continues his journey to his office.

It takes five minutes before Steve gets there and pops his head into the office, “Hey Danno, we got a – what the fuck is that?” he asks, jaw going slack, eyes widening.

“What,” Danny pulls his coffee mug away from him and looks down and then all around, feigning innocence. “What’s what?”

“You – where’s your - ?” Steve mimes tightening a tie and Danny tamps down the laughter bubbling up in his throat at the look and the _miming_.

“Oh,” Danny says, looks down and shrugs. “I… shrunk them.”

“You shrunk all of them?” Steve demands, putting on hand on his hip and almost managing to look offended at the possibility.

“Sure,” Danny shrugs again.

Steve is quiet for thirty seconds, still staring at the spot where Danny’s tie would normally be, his own hands still playing at the air near where a tie would go on his own shirt (if he was, you know, wearing the proper type of shirt), before he shakes his head and blinks his eyes, “I know you’re lying,” he says slowly, “But I don’t know why.” And then he backs out of the room slowly, eyes still on Danny.

From behind him, Kono peers around and gives Danny a wink and two thumbs up.

\--  
Step two is no ranting. For a whole day, Kono says, just sort of be agreeable and let Steve drive. (“Let him drive? – I do that anyways, are you even _at work_ rookie?”

“Yeah, but let him drive _without_ bitching,” she says.)

So Danny shows up for work, no tie and invisible-imaginary duct tape taped over his mouth, wishing it was real. He really wishes it was real when he hears Steve’s plan of attack for the day before he’s even had his first cup of coffee for the morning. “What are you – you’re –“ Kono peers around Steve shoulder and shoots him a glare and Danny folds his arms across his chest, pinches his bicep and clamps his mouth shut.

“Danny?” Steve says, eyebrow arching. “Danny, are you okay?”

“Nothing – nevermind,” Danny says, grinding his teeth while he says it. “I think that – your plan is – it’s…. something. Who doesn’t love grenades?” He says mildly, and then crosses the room and locks himself in his office.

“Was that sarcasm?” He hears Steve call after him and he bangs his head against the doorpost.

It grows exceedingly hard to keep his mouth shut after Steve blows up two warehouses, nearly gets him shot, shoots two suspects and dents the Camaro’s bumper before the day’s end. Danny’s sure his biceps are never going to recover from the bruises they’ve developed throughout the day. At one point while he’s in his office doing paperwork, Steve steps in, a frown on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Fine,” Danny says, and crosses his arms again, fingers automatically seeking out the already tender spot on his bicep. His poor, abused biceps. “Why do you ask?”

“Only it’s just, you’ve been awfully quiet all day,” Steve says and then his gaze snaps to Danny’s folded arms.

“I’m really okay, Steve,” Danny insists, pinching himself to keep from ranting about what a crazy, stupid lunatic he’s got to work with and why would the fates choose _him_ of all people in the world to fall in love with, he’ll never know, but, Jesus Christ.

“If you say so,” Steve’s frown deepens, “But why do you keep pinching yourself?”

\--  
Step three is food. Pizza, Kono insists, with pineapple. “And try some _loco moco,_ okay? And whatever else Steve insists on throwing your way! Just say you’re ready to… experience foods of the island, or something,” she shrugs.

“What?” Danny blinks. “What – but I’m not, Kono! I will _never_ be ready to _experience foods of the island_ or whatever bullshit line you’re trying to feed me. Are you sure this isn’t just you using me for shits and giggles?” He demands, hand on his hip, chin tilted in defiance.

Kono looks at him with a serious glare, the one she uses when she’s about to drop-kick a perp or someone who threatens to take her favorite sniper rifle and leans in close – _too_ closely in Danny’s opinion. (Close enough that he leans back a little, if he’s honest with himself.) “Do you want to seduce Steve or not?” She asks in a deadly tone.

“Yeah but –“ Danny almost-whines, but stops himself, clears his throat, “I mean, yes, of course.”

“Then shut up and do what I tell you to. Go enjoy food,” she says. As he’s walking out the door when Steve beeps his horn, she gives him a shit-eating grin, “And also, I may be doing this a _little_ for shits and giggles,” she says, and shuts the door in Danny’s face before he can respond.

Not that he’d know what to say to her anyways.

Steve takes him to a small diner that looks like the health inspector should have shut it down about twenty years ago (“But it’s good, the best on the island,” Steve insists.

“If I get food poisoning and die, McGarrett, I’m coming back from the dead and killing you myself,” Danny warns.), and orders for them both. Danny stares down at his plate with a dejected look on his face until Steve sighs and pulls his own fork away from where he was shoveling food into his mouth.

“Look,” Steve says, “You can’t _try_ the food unless you – you know, put it in your mouth?”

“I know that,” Danny says waspishly, and picks his fork up, puts a tiny bite on. Steve rolls his eyes. Danny resists the urge to hold his nose and chew at the same time like Gracie always did when he and Rachel made her eat peas before they finally gave up.

He puts the bite in his mouth and tries not to gag. “Um,” he says and that’s as far as he gets before he grabs for his napkin, hands waving desperately and frantically through the air until Steve finally presses it into his palm and he spits the food into the napkin. Danny absolutely does not lick the napkin to get the taste of the food out of his mouth, (but he does think for a long moment about it) and then he looks up at Steve, who just shakes his head.

“You,” Steve says, “Are not even – I don’t even - _Danno_ ,” he says.

Danny just looks at him with wide eyes.

“Can we go get burgers now?”

\--  
“You have to have an open mind,” Kono says as they sit at the bar the next week. They haven’t had any time to work on step four because a terrible kidnapping case got in their way and took up all their time. This is the first bit of free time they’ve had in a week and Danny’s bone-deep tired, the kind of tired that makes you think you could fall down right on the filthy bar floor and pass out for the next month without a second thought.

“An open mind – what are you – I haven’t had an open mind? Is that what you’re saying? Because I seem to recall having a pretty open mind!” Danny exclaims. “I mean – hello!” He gestures towards his still tie-less body and Kono rolls her eyes.

“Danny, you spit your food into a napkin. Steve said he thought you were going to lick it. Or throw up. Maybe both,” she says.

Danny drains the rest of his first beer and jabs the bottle in the air towards her, “That’s because Hawaiian food is something that people from the East coast should never, _ever_ attempt to understand,” Danny grimaces at the memory.

Kono shakes her head. “You’re not going to like my plan of attack here,” she says.  
Danny thinks he can’t really complain as long as it fucking _works_ because he’s down to three weeks before his birthday and at night he’s started waking up from nightmares with night sweats, the kind that leave him awake and shuddering and afraid to fall back asleep. The curse is starting to settle in and if he doesn’t find someone to help him break it – _Steve_ , he tells himself, he needs _Steve_ – to break it, then he’s going to be stuck being terrified of sleep for the rest of forever.

Christ, he might as well just change his name to Uncle Joey right now.

“I’m listening,” he says, leaning in.

\--  
Jesus, this was a bad idea, he thinks. This was a bad idea of _epic_ proportions, (he’ll remind himself to yell at Kono the most when the curse has sunk in) and it’s never going to work.

“Danny?” Steve blinks. “What are you doing here,” he looks at him and Danny looks back, mouth open, trying to say _something_ to explain what he’s doing here, but then Steve looks down and notices what he’s wearing and Steve narrows his eyes.

“Danny?” He asks again, and fuck, Danny is frozen to the spot.

“Well, okay,” Danny finally says, “Here’s the thing.”

“The thing?” Steve asks blankly.

“Yeah, the thing,” Danny waves an arm around over his head, “Is that you keep insisting I can’t swim or whatever. And that is – that _bothers_ me, okay? So I’m here to – to prove you wrong,” Danny nods, trying to convince himself.

“You want to swim,” Steve says slowly, “At… ten o’ clock at night? Danny are you – are you drunk?” He leans in closer, reaches up a hand to check Danny’s pupils. Danny bats his hands away.

“Absolutely I am not drunk,” Danny says, “Would I have driven here drunk, huh? Am I that stupid – don’t answer that, please. Look I just –“ Danny takes a deep breath, “Swim with me, okay, Steve?” He turns his head up to look Steve in the eye and there’s something there, something great and wonderful and amazing that Danny just _needs_ , hidden in the depths of Steve’s eyes.

Steve is quiet for a moment before he nods slowly, “Okay, Danno, I’ll swim with you. Just let me change real quick, okay?”

Danny nods mutely and allows himself to be led out onto the lanai to wait for Steve to change. Steve comes back after five minutes and offers a small smile. “Ready?” he asks.

“Sure,” Danny shrugs and takes a deep breath. They step into the water and it’s warm – nothing like the biting chill of the Atlantic that Danny is used to, it’s relaxing – soothing, almost, makes Danny want to sink deeper into it. Steve smiles when he sees the split-second look of surprise on Danny’s face at the warmth. It’s not that Danny hasn’t been in the ocean since he’s arrived – he’s played with Gracie in the water, taken his surf lessons with Kono; still, a lifetime of living near the Atlantic and playing near its waters has him braced for the icy bite against his ankles.

“Coming out further?” Steve calls and Danny realizes he’s been stuck in the same place at the edge of the water for a couple minutes now. Danny nods and keeps walking until he can start swimming. Once he reaches Steve, they swim at a slow and leisurely pace together until Steve comes to a complete stop about a hundred yards from the shore.

“See?” Danny says, for lack of anything else to say, “Told you I could swim.”

Steve is quiet, searching Danny’s face for something before he finally says, “I never really doubted you, Danno.”

Danny doesn’t say anything. Steve says, “What’s really going on, Danny? The ties, the not-arguing, the food – the swimming? What’s really going on?”

“What makes you think something is going on?” Danny challenges, and Steve huffs out a laugh.

“Danno,” he says.

Danny sighs. “Truth? I’m… trying to um – seduce you?” He says and it comes out like a question.

Steve blinks in alarm, tries to straighten up and the water around them stirs. “Oh,” he says.

“ _Oh?_ ” Danny says, “Oh, he says, like it’s just an ordinary day! _Oh,_ ” he scoffs, splashing water around them.

“Danny,” Steve reaches out and wraps a hand around one of his wrists, “What did you – why did you feel like you needed to _seduce_ me?” It’s then that Danny realizes Steve’s laughing – shaking with it, in fact – and he wants to drown the stupid bastard.

Fall in love with him, indeed.

“Are you laughing?” He shouts, scandalized, “Are you laughing at me, you stupid, Neanderthal _animal_?”

“Danny I just – I don’t understand –“ Steve breathes out between laughs.

“Understand _what_?” Danny shouts, flinging a hand up and saltwater hits them both in the face. “What’s there to understand about the art of seduction?”

“I don’t understand why you thought I _needed_ to be seduced,” Steve says finally, calming down.

“It’s a pretty standard thing to do when you like someone and you want that person to like you b – wait, what?” Danny blinks.

“Danno,” Steve says fondly, rubbing his thumb along the inside of Danny’s wrist. Danny’s pulse absolutely does not jump. (It absolutely does.) “You didn’t need to seduce me anymore than you already have. All you would have had to do was say the word and I would’ve been right there.”

“You – what?” Danny says, stunned.

Steve laughs softly. “I would have,” he nods. “I just… wasn’t sure where you were at with the whole… have-I-seduced- _you_ thing.”

Danny nods vigorously, leaning in, “I’m there,” he says, floating closer in the water, “I’m very, very there.”

Steve laughs again and floats in until their chests are touching, “I’m very, very glad,” he says, brushing a finger along Danny’s cheek. “I’m also glad that your seducing means I got to see you in swim trunks.”

“Shut up,” Danny mumbles, and then leans up and kisses him.

And it’s the type of kiss he never had with Rachel or anyone else he’s ever been with before; it leaves him breathless and needy and feeling _complete_ , like nothing he’s ever felt before. It leaves him feeling like if he ever kisses someone else it’ll feel like a betrayal. It leaves him feeling like if Steve leaves his sight right now, he’ll be forced to hunt him down and tie him to a chair.

“Out,” Danny mumbles against Steve’s jaw after a couple minutes, “We need out of this _ocean,_ ” he looks down and realizes that sometime in the past couple minutes he’s managed to tread water and get his legs wrapped around Steve’s waist and his hands dipped into the back of Steve’s board shorts.

“Danny,” Steve laughs as Danny tries to push through the water, still wrapped around him.

“What, what, _what?_ ” he mumbles, kissing along Steve’s jaw, still pushing and brushing his hands across Steve’s back now.

“You need to –“ Steve breaks off and thrusts against Danny when Danny pushes, trying to get closer towards the shore, “Fuck,” he hisses, “You need to _detach_ yourself for thirty seconds, so we can _get there,_ Danny I swear to God,” he mutters, trying to untangle himself. Danny clings to him for a few seconds more before he finally lets go, Steve’s laughter rumbling over his skin.

He doesn’t let go of his hand though; he keeps a light grip on it the entire time they doggie-paddle back to shore. Once they reach the sand, the stumble halfway towards the house before Danny is clinging to Steve again. He sort of hates himself for it, for this desperate need to be touching Steve everywhere all at once, but at the same time he doesn’t care – just wants to be _touching_ him. “Can’t – Steve, can’t go any further,” he mumbles, pulling away just a little, reaching up and wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck tightly.

Steve pulls back and looks at him curiously and almost surprised, Danny thinks. “I didn’t imagine you to be a sex-on-the-beach type,” he says lowly.

“I didn’t imagine you to argue with me about where I want to be fucked,” Danny retorts, and that’s all he has to say before Steve is tackling him to the sand.

\--  
And boy does sand get _everywhere,_ Danny thinks. There’s something amazing about the moment Steve enters him after long moments of preparation where Danny was restless and needing more. (And the look of shock on Danny’s face when Steve pulled out a sachet of lube from his _swim trunks_ \- priceless, he swears.

“I came prepared,” Steve says all wide-eyed and innocent. “I had a feeling.” Danny doesn’t blame him.)

The feeling is sort of like the stars are all aligning just right for the first time since Danny has been old enough to understand things maturely; like the world has just started spinning on its axis the right way, finally. The feeling spreads over him warmly, something thick and heavy, like the best blanket on a cold winter day. He’s sure Steve feels it too, because he grips Danny’s arms tightly as he thrusts into him and bends down and kisses his collarbone desperately, breathes out, “Danny – I can’t – it’s too –“ he breaks off and Danny arches up, fighting for air and wanting this feeling to never _end._

It’s like a weight is finally being lifted off his shoulders when he comes, long and sweet and perfect. “God,” he moans, hips jerking against Steve, “Steve, babe, _God,_ ” his eyes are shut tight, bursts of reds and yellows and purples shooting across his eyelids. That must be all it takes because then Steve is moaning and thrusting faster and coming inside Danny, biting down on the sensitive spot right behind Danny’s ear and Jesus – how did he _know_ about that? – Danny wonders vaguely.

\--  
“Shit,” Danny says, breathing hard. Everything feels like it’s tingling and Danny’s not sure if that’s the curse finally leaving his body or just some really amazing, _amazing_ sex.

“Yes,” Steve breathes out. He’s collapsed in the sand next to him and Danny flinches when he shifts a little because – holy shit, there really is sand everywhere and that is not going to be enjoyable. Danny blinks up at the stars and all the sudden he’s aware of an absolute _shit-eating_ grin on his face.

“I just thought you should know,” he says, propping up on both elbows to get a good look at Steve, “We’re doing that again. A lot. For forever.”

Steve doesn’t argue, only responds with his own shit-eating grin.

\--  
“That sounds about right,” Danny’s Ma says on the phone two days later. “Although I don’t remember anyone ever saying they were quite _so_ clingy. Your father certainly wasn’t. You always were on the sensitive side, though,” she clucks her tongue.

“Wow,” Danny says. “Just. Wow.”

“So,” there’s a pause and the clink of the coffee mug on the counter, one of the ever-present noises of Danny’s childhood – something that still makes him long for home. “When do we get to meet him?”

Danny thunks his head against Steve’s headboard and tries to refrain from saying never – Steve and his parents in the same room might just equal the apocalypse.

\--  
“It’s so beautiful!” Gracie shrieks on Danny’s birthday, “Auntie Kono and I picked it out together!”

“I love it, Monkey. It’s so… pink.” Danny says, kissing the top of her head. Steve smiles at them as he sticks candles on the – admittedly pink – cake, and then goes to search for a lighter. “It’s so – me,” he finishes. Grace grins up at him from her perch on his lap and claps her hands together and Kono tries hiding a smirk behind her hand. Danny shoots her a glare that he’s sure reads _you will pay for this later,_ but really, he doubts that he’ll respond at all. After all, his baby girl picked it out, how could he complain? (And, it’d only make him sound like Uncle Joey, and he’s feeling the furthest thing from Uncle Joey these days.)

They eat cake and everyone leaves until it’s just Grace, Danny and Steve sitting around the kitchen table and Danny decides now is probably the time to tell Grace. He grips Steve’s hand and gives him a smile. He’d broken the news to Steve that he was stuck with Danny for – well, forever – the second day in and Steve had just blinked at him and laughed. (“Jesus, Danny, like I wasn’t already stuck with you.”)

“Gracie,” Danny says, “Steve and I have something to tell you.”

Grace looks up from where she’s picking apart a piece of cake, (her third, Rachel is going to kill him if the news ever gets back to her) and her eyes widen almost comically. “Steve and I –“

Grace interrupts with squealing and clapping. “Danno,” she breathes out, slides down out of her chair and runs over to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Danno – have you found it?” She asks excitedly.

“Grace what are you – what are you _talking_ about?” Danny asks, confused.

“Your Forever-Love!” Grace exclaims, pulling away and placing her hands on her hips in a way that’s so Danny-like that beside him, Steve snorts.

“Grace how did you – “

“Danno,” she shakes her head. “Everyone has a Forever-Love. I knew Uncle Steve was yours,” she says it like it’s the most logical explanation, and Danny doesn’t have the heart to correct her, so he just reaches out and brushes the stray hair from her ponytail back, smiling.

“Yes,” he says softly. “Uncle Steve and I are Forever-Loves, Gracie. Is that okay?”

Gracie gives him a huge grin. “It’s perfect,” she replies.

And something around Danny’s heart falls free and he’s never felt more complete in his life.


End file.
